PHD #041: Meeting the Press
Meeting the Press
Summary: Clearing things up before the Press is turned loose on the Deck.
Date: 08 Apr 2041
Related Logs: None
Sawyer Atreus 
Chief's Office — Hangar Deck - Battlestar Cerberus
Post Holocaust Day: #41
The room is fairly small, to maximize the area of the deck itself. It contains a smallish metal desk with locking drawers, a computer terminal, a file cabinet against one wall and metal shelves filled with tools, spare parts, and manuals. There are two chairs facing the desk, clearly scavenged from somewhere else. One area of the shelving, nearest the desk, has been cleared and is clean. This holds a coffee maker that constantly seems to have some brew or other in it. Above the chair behind the desk, in a position of prominence, a framed picture has been hung. It is an embroidered image depicting Hephaestus with his two metal helpers. The work is beautiful and almost lovingly detailed. The god is laughing, one eye bright where a patch covers the other. He is held aloft by his helpers, one done in glittering gold, the other in silver.

Evening is always a problematic time on the deck. Either things are relaxed and it is fairly quiet, or not. Tonight things are hopping, what with one project or another keeping the deckies busy and excited. The faint buzz of activity on the deck is caused by teams of people working away running tests and comparing notes. Productive, yes, but a man needs a break from time to time and Atreus has retreated from the deck itself to work on reports or other more solitary pursuits. Seated behind his desk, he is hunt-and-peck typing with an astonishing rapidity considering.

Someone left the hatch to his office open during the coming and goings of getting reports signed. Now Sawyer fills the void, watching the man quietly for a moment before rapping her knuckles on the frame. "Chief Atreus?" The journalist asks after a glance to the pad of paper she's got in hand, as if confirming she's got the right name or the right man. When he should look up from the typing, a warm enough smile yet professional smile awaits him.

Atreus glances over at the rap, expecting to see yet another minion with clipboard in hand. His smile is patient and immediate, for he truly does appreciate the hard work his people do. The smile pauses for a moment while the man's mind catches up with his observations. When the 'civilian' alarm goes off, then is stifled as quickly, he blanks his screen and rises. One hand unconsciously rises to self-consciously brush a palm over his recently buzzed head, "May I help you?" Then, he almost laughs, "Right. Ms. Sawyer, isn't it?" The other hand lifts as he moves around his desk and takes the few steps to the hatch, "Come in, please. How can I help you?"

What gave the civilian part away? The suit or the high heels that aren't exactly deck worthy. At least she didn't dally by the birds, but merely beelined it to the safety of his office. For now. "Yes, that's right. Well, you had asked me to swing by and speak to you directly before I had mind to speak with any of your boys. Guess you could call this my courtesy call. Sorry it took a while, I've had to fight through a bout of writer's block. Sort of sucked up all inspiration for the moment and I…I'm rambling aren't I?" She extends her hand for a friendly shake. "Sawyer Averies. Rogue Journalist." Of course the rogue part is just happenstance. What with all the newspapers and magazines having been blown to high Kobol.

Atreus's grip is warm and friendly, firm enough to be comfortable without any wishy-washy phoniness to it, "Ah, I am sorry. Mz. Averies. We've been a bit busy the last few days, so no harm done at all." The shake is brief, though the man moves to offer a chair, "Please, sit?" He leaves the hatch open, turning to walk back to his desk, "Would you care for something to drink? Tea and coffee are still available, though my stash is getting low." That last is accompanied by a quick smile that edges toward a chuckle, "I doubt this'll take long, really. I just have a couple of requests…"

Sawyer waves off the offer of a drink and finds a seat, settling in to rest the pad of paper on her knee. "Short and sweet. That suits me perfectly. You were actually the last stop of my day, and I'm looking forward into a nice coma. So. Requests. How can I make my presence easier on you, Chief?" Her magnanimous smile remains firmly in place, though she is looking a little weary around the eyes.

Atreus nods and pulls up his own chair. Leaning forward, he steeples his fingers, elbows on the desk itself. "Last? Gee… I'm hurt." Yet, there is mischief in his eyes and his smile is relaxed. Drawing in a slow breath, he grows quickly serious, though relaxation remains, "I would greatly appreciate it, Ms. Averies, if you would consent to wearing a coverall and appropriate shoes while on the deck." He lifts his gaze toward the hatch, then explains, "First, the coverall will protect your clothing. Sometimes things splash and getting grease out of good fabric's not easy. Second, the shoes will keep you from breaking a heel or worse should you misstep and catch a hose or puddle of something slick. Also, it is for your safety as well as my crew's. People who are not wearing coveralls break up the flow of work in one way or another." His gaze returns to the woman, "I'll have one of my safety specialists tailor one for you." he pauses to consider, as though something has just occurred to him. Then, his smile turns sheepish, "That is if you mean to conduct interviews or… whatever… on the deck itself."

Sawyer gives a quick look down to her crossed legs, extending the upper one to examine the shine of her rather point shoe. She turns her foot this way and that, "Well. I suppose bright orange would rather clash with anything other then some tennis shoes I've brought. Will that work? I'm afraid I don't have any work boots. Wardrobe change is easy enough done, and I do infact intend to mosey around. I wouldn't mind the guided tour from the man himself, should you have a spare moment in the upcoming week." Buttering him up a bit? Perhaps.

Atreus does take the opportunity to enjoy the view provided, though he falls short of standing to get a better view. "Tennis shoes would be fine, Ms. Averies. I'll ask the specialist to be sure the legs of the coveralls fit properly." An eyebrow lifts just a little and he nods slightly, "I'd be honored to show you around." The twinkle has returned to his gaze and the twitch of his lips hints that the notion is a pleasant one. Then, he clears his throat and sounds almost embarrassed, "Oh, right. Two more things. They fall in the 'stating the obvious' category, but…" He shrugs slightly, hands spreading palms up, "They have to be said. So… If you ask questions about projects that are still classified, I've told folks to refer you to me. I will put in requests to disclose, but we have to abide by what the CO and XO dictate. Still, when we can talk about things, you'll be the one we call. I've told my folk to expect you, so there should not be any trouble about that. The only other thing is that if the person you want to talk to is busy, I've asked them to let you know when their schedule frees up. I hope that is acceptable?"

Sawyer seems to relax into the chair, having yet to actually write any of his requests down. "Nothing I haven't already discussed with the Rear Admiral. I'm not here to interfere, or become a safety hazard to myself or your crew whether physically or by reporting anything that is not fit for public consumption yet. So long as your men don't start abusing 'I'm busy' when they're just sipping a cup of coffee, I'll have no problem clearing out and getting out of the way. The fleet comes first, as much as I'd like to think otherwise of my little paper endeavor. Don't think I'm going to go easy on them, though, Chief. That wouldn't be any fun, now would it?"

Atreus nods, that half smile fading a bit, "If they do that, please let me know and I will handle it. You are welcome on the deck, Ms. Averies. They all know that you have the blessing of teh Old Man and of myself." The smile returns more fully formed, "I would hope you would treat them with the same courtesy and charm that you show with me. But, do or do not as you see fit. Your job is far harder than ours in many ways and I hope my folk will be considerate and helpful. As I said… If they are otherwise, let me know, please."

"Now who's being charming?" Sawyer asks rhetorically with a little playful tsk at the end. "As of right now, there are a few things I'd like to go over with you, and then I'll branch out to your personnel from there as I see fit. No sense in interrupting everyone's work, when I can get what I need from the Lion's mouth. But I know your time is precious, so I'll attempt to slice it up into manageable time frames, as to not mess with the ebb and flow of your daily schedule. Is that acceptable?"

Atreus's chuckle is soft, though a tinge of embarassment touches the tips of the man's ears, "Me? Hardly." Though the smile remains after the faint rumble of amusement fades. Leaning back, he folds his hands together and rests them on the desk. Listening, he nods, "Sure, that sounds good to me. What can I help with?"

"Ah, we'll save that for some other night. I need to properly collect my notes, so I'm not coming in here like some schmoe wasting your time. I'm just going to be looking into all the little glitches that the Cerberus has had since her hasty debarkation, I want to get a big picture of it all and see if there are any patterns. I'm just nuts for patterns." For all intents and purposes, Sawyer seems like a rather jovial individual, a wonder she's made it for so long in such a competitive and cut-throat field.

Atreus nods, hands relaxing out of their somewhat official tension, "Fair enough, though I may not be the right one for that. We don't have as much to do with the Cerberus herself as we do with her birds. Engineering might be the place to begin. Or, talk to the MPs. I hear that they've been doing some investigation into that." He nods again, once, "But, you're welcome down here anytime, so don't be a stranger. Just let me know when you've a mind to poke around and I'll introduce you to my second if he's on duty, then do a tour. After that, you're free to wander as you like."

"Oh no no. I'm well aware. I just understand there was a civilian contractor on board who spoke of some…malfunctions with the new computer system they were installing on the Vipers. But, you know, I have such a lousy memory, and I said I really needed to review my notes, so forgive me if I'm not getting my facts all straight." Sawyer rolls her eyes to the top of her head, as if she's having a dumb blonde moment, so please excuse her.

Atreus nods slowly, "Ah. No problem, Ms. Averies." He blinks, tilting his head slightly to one side, "Interesting. I had better organize my own notes as well." Not at all fooled by the dumb blonde act, Atreus cannot quite stifle the snicker, but is willing to enjoy it anyway, "It is late. Besides, your notes would be hurt if they were not properly utilized. They might get so annoyed that they refused to help down the lane and then where would we be?"

Sawyer rubs her palms along the material of her slacks, brushing them down her thighs once before standing and offering her hand back across to Atreus again. "Too true. Thank you again for your time, and I'll try and schedule something with you soon where we can compare notes and maybe a drink? Wouldn't hurt, right? Now that the ban is lifted. It was a pleasure meeting you Chief, I look forward to speaking with you again soon."

Atreus rises as she does, his hand lifting to clasp hers. The shake is as before, warm and relaxed. "The pleasure was mine, Ms. Averies. Thank you for your understanding and cooperation." His smile remains warm though when the shake ends, he moves around his desk to follow the reporter to the hatch, "I'll look forward to meeting with you again."

Sawyer grins a bit more wryly this time, as she clasps his hand. "Somehow, I think that'll be the /last/ time you utter those words, Chief." And with that, the reporter slips off into the cacophony of the deck to weave her way back to the stairwell where she disappears up.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License